I never know what I will find at the beach
Photo credit: pexels.com
Photo credit: pexels.com
When we are at home in our souls our actions flow freely with great power to change situations for the greatest good.
All shall be well
and all shall be well
and all manner of thing
shall be well.
Dame Julian of Norwich
“At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement.”
T.S. Eliot The Four Quartets
The Roundabout and the Still Point
Under clear blue sky
in Central Park carefree
girls and boys hop
onto a roundabout and spin
each rotation carrying them
away from the nascent secret
we conceal from them and ourselves:
the sky has fallen
yin has become yang.
clinging and cleaving to roundabouts
forged by fear.
Our grip is slipping now
and we are falling
by default into that Still Point of is-ness
where we embrace the yang
until our yearning for yin
puts the sky back in place
and the children back
on the roundabout…
As for us-
© Rita H. Kowats
Photo Credit: imgbin.com
Although we are not celebrating Rosh Hashanna today and the calendar may not mark the beginning of another year, I offer Marge Piercy’s poem to give us hope that every day is new and we can come back after immigrants are rounded up like cattle and congresswomen are told to go back to the country they were born in if they don’t like this one.
I simply have no words for the treatment of migrants at America’s southern border, so I rely once again on the words of poet Jack Gilbert and the sculpture of Albert Gyorgy to convey feelings intense enough to move us to action.
THE ABANDONED VALLEY
Can you understand
being alone so long
you would go out in the middle of the night
and put a bucket into the
well so you could feel something
tug at the other end of
Jack Gilbert in Refusing Heaven
It’s a soggy summer day in Seattle, folks, a day to silently drink in this pithy piece of wisdom and store it until the sun graces us with its presence again.
Photo Credit: true self portraits https://www.newscientist.com/round-up/your-true-self/
This gift of wisdom came to me this morning and reminded me of a poem I wrote earlier. I invite you to meander between the words, between the lines.
A clear radiant unselfishness at the core of your being is a vital source of power and influence. It spreads as surely as ripples on a pond when a stone is tossed into the center. A sincere reliance on your own integrity generates supreme good fortune. I Ching 61 Centering in Truth
“SoulCards” by Deborah Koff-Chapin. The technique Deborah has created is called “touch drawing.” The cards come in two decks of 60 images and can be used alone or with others as reflection tools. They have enriched my meditation for years and have helped those I companion with. www.soulcards.com
Used with permission from the artist
Meister Eckhart’s Refectory
I relished some time with my old friend Meister Eckhart this morning. I invite you into this meandering, while acknowledging that it is a bit out there (maybe more than a bit!)
Once again I am honored to introduce you to a freshly published volume of poetry penned by my friend Kay Mullen. You can read more about it and order a copy at her website.
I leave you now with a glimpse into kay and a taste of her poetry.
[…in later life] Kay… earned a Master of Fine Arts from Pacific Lutheran University with a focus on poetry. She received a First Place in the Washington State William Stafford Award and was a Best of the Net nominee as well as a multiple Pushcart Prize nominee. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals including Shark Reef, and Literature and Belief. Anthologies include Becoming: What Make a Woman, edited by Jill McCabe Johnson, and Beyond Forgetting: Poetry and Prose About Alzheimer’s Disease, edited by Holly Hughes.
…Looking back on her writing she states: “I realize I intuitively strove to follow my birth mother’s music and artistic gifts somehow weaving them into my poems. My mother left me a legacy I discovered long after her death. She has become alive again in my poetry.” www.kaymullen.org
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